


the hand that feeds

by Anonymous



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, darbit if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: if only i could love you enough / to give you what you need / if only i could be for you / the hand that feeds
Relationships: Darrel Curtis & Two-Bit Mathews
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28
Collections: Anonymous





	the hand that feeds

**Author's Note:**

> i'm having a hard time, so this is pretty heavy. please tend to yourself and reach out to someone if you need to. people care xx
> 
> lyrics in the summary are by nicole dollanganger. 
> 
> dar-bit if you squint (please squint)

When he woke up, he instantly knew something had happened. He wondered for a second if he had just had some kind of bad dream, because the surface he was lying on felt suspiciously soft, but he couldn't actually remember falling asleep and the way his stomach was churning like that suggested otherwise. His eyes cracked open, the world swimming hazily in front of his eyes until it slowly became his living room ceiling. The crack in the plaster webbing away from the ceiling light stared down at him.

"Easy, don't move too fast." The sudden voice jolted Darry out of his attempt at recollection, his eyes darting to the side. Two-Bit's face hovered over him, bearing a solid, unmistakable expression of concern. It dawned upon him that this was the couch, the other man was kneeling on the floor beside him, and the cloth that Two-Bit held in his hand was dripping all over the carpet. 

Half a second later, that cloth was pressed against his forehead, making cold water drip down his skin. "Jesus, Two-Bit, you're waterboardin' me," Darry grumbled, turning his face so he could inhale a breath without drowning. The cloth just followed him, dabbing over his skin and moving down to wipe at his cheeks.

"Well, you weren't exactly wakin' up in good time," Two-Bit huffed right back, but he gingerly mopped up the drops of water that had slid down the eldest Curtis's nose. There was a certain gentleness about the contact that surprised Darry. Two-Bit wasn't exactly the type of person one might refer to as gentle. No one would ever even group him into the formality of "gentlemen". But the way the redhead was sponging his face was nothing _but_ gentle.

"What happened?" Darry noticed then that his own voice felt slightly slurred, like his mind wouldn't meet his mouth all the way. The words in his head felt like they were spinning right along with the rest of his nervous system. He pressed his lips tightly together, nausea sweeping over him.

In an instant, Two-Bit shoved another pillow behind his back, propping Darry up enough to hold the trash basket that was placed in his lap. Darry shook his head quickly and immediately passed it back, knowing he wouldn't need it. "Nothin' in me to throw up," he swallowed before he could think about it what he was saying. His mouth gaped like a goldfish for a moment while he focused on drawing in enough air to settle the sick feeling in his body, but he couldn't miss the way Two-Bit's brows shot up. A solemn look passed over his face, and Darry could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he figured out the meaning behind the words. Fuck.

"You passed out," Two-Bit stated, going back to wiping his face with the slightly less damp cloth. "Fell like a ton of bricks in the middle of the kitchen." Darry had figured it out by then, but he was more surprised by the fact that his freudian slip did just that -- slipped by. He didn't dare say anything further about it. He closed his eyes, letting the other man continue to bathe his face with the damp cloth. It felt nice, even though he had work to do and still needed to go figure out what to serve for supper once his brothers got back from the movies. 

Right. Supper. Meals. That's what had caused all of this, more or less. Darry knew it without having to think about it, he wasn't stupid. And neither was Two-Bit, obviously, because the tension hovering between the two men was enough to suck the oxygen out of the room. Maybe that's why his lungs felt like they were going to shrivel up and fall to the bottom of his chest cavity. 

The cloth suddenly left his skin, and Darry instinctively opened his eyes to question where it was going. Two-Bit balled the fabric up in his fingers, an inattentive look on his face as he watched his own hands move. Darry was bracing himself for what he knew was coming next. A lecture, probably; or more likely, the other man reminding him how stupid it was to skip meals or eat less food than he needed or whatever other assumption Two-Bit was forming in his head right now. 

He wasn't prepared for the genuine concern that echoed behind the question, "Have you eaten anything today, Darry?" Two-Bit looked at him, a little wrinkle between his brows as he waited for the answer. Not that he needed it. Why else would Darry have fainted out of nowhere? Moreso, why else would Darry have such a guilty expression if he didn't know his own mistake? 

Darry shook his head anyways. No use lying about it, even if it did make him feel like he was a kid getting in trouble instead of a grown man who'd had a freak fainting spell. This obviously wasn't happening all the time, so it wasn't that big of a deal, despite the look on Two-Bit's face saying otherwise. "Been trying to get some stuff done around the house," he muttered, averting his eyes so he didn't have to see the other's reaction. It was a lame excuse and he knew it.

Silence passed between them. Darry waited for the inevitable. He knew Two-Bit wouldn't understand. Two-Bit had never had such responsibilities forced upon him as keeping two teenage boys from ending up in state custody, or having to make enough to keep a roof over their heads when the economy was falling so quickly. A biweekly paycheck only kept so much food in the fridge when the culprits were a couple of boys with fast metabolisms who each ate enough sometimes to feed entire families. Darry wasn't not eating just to not eat. He had reason to lose his appetite, reason to cut corners and only have a few bites of something at his desk in his room instead of sitting down to eat a full meal with his brothers. Two-Bit just didn't get it.

For once in his life, Two-Bit didn't seem to know what to say. Maybe it was a little more serious than Darry's mind told him, but he didn't want to think about that possibility. Of course it wasn't a big deal, this was the first incident of its kind. The first time he'd ever entirely lost consciousness, anyways. Maybe not the first time he'd gone a day without eating, but it wasn't often enough to make a fuss about. No one had said anything about it before this... except Sodapop giving him those looks across the table every time Darry muttered that he was gonna eat in his room (only for the food on his plate to end up back in the fridge an hour later). But they could brush this off, move on with a quick joke about Darry not needing anything but coffee and a cigarette to get through the rest of his day off that wasn't really a day off. Except for the fact that Tulsa's biggest slapstick, beer-fueled, vulgar comedian was kneeling beside him, had the perfect source material for some depraved comedy bit, and yet... didn't have a word to say about any of it. 

Maybe the thing that gave Darry the most control these days had suddenly begun to control him. 

"Did you carry me over here?" Darry asked suddenly, furrowing his brow as he realized that he'd ended up on the couch despite being in the kitchen when the incident occurred. The other man must have carried him over. Darry figured it went unsaid that he should have been too heavy for such a thing. Maybe Two-Bit was just that strong, though, and didn't boast about it.

Two-Bit didn't find this revelation to be nearly as disruptive. He stood up without a word, still staring down at Darry with that _look_ on his face. Concern, maybe, or just shock. Or maybe something else. For a split second, Darry thought the redhead was about to just walk out, but that wasn't the direction Two-Bit headed when he finally left the couch's side. Instead, he disappeared into the kitchen, and Darry mentally cursed at the sudden dread that settled in his gut.

When Two-Bit came back, Darry had moved to be sitting up a little more fully, no longer needing the support of the cushions under his back. He still felt shaky, and that's why he didn't make the attempt to move off the couch, resigning instead for sitting with his body leaned sideways against the armrest. Just as he'd suspected, Two-Bit had a plate with some kind of sandwich and a tall glass of orange juice that Darry didn't even realize was in the fridge. He stared at the meal in silence, hoping for the smallest sliver of chance that it was simply a snack for the other man. 

Except, Two-Bit placed the sandwich down on the coffee table and looked at Darry expectantly, like he was saying without words _You know what you have to do_. Darry looked away from both the food and Two-Bit's eyes, averting down to his lap instead. Just by a quick glimpse, the very idea of eating the sandwich made him sick. Two slices of white bread, two thick cuts of baloney, a piece of american cheese, and god knows how much mayo. All things Darry used to like, but now it was a matter of the fact that the same ingredients could serve as a lunch for one of his brothers. It could even serve as dinner for that night, if he wasn't feeling like cooking, and there was a moment where Darry felt anger bubble up at the fact that Two-Bit had spent time and ingredients making a sandwich that he didn't even want to eat.

That was unreasonable, of course, because Darry never kept anything in the kitchen off limits to any of the boys unless it was something he'd planned on serving for dinner. He felt the slight dip in the couch as Two-Bit sat down beside him. For a moment, he began to brace himself for the argument he knew was about to happen over that sandwich, but he wasn't expecting the hand that fell onto his shoulder. It even made him flinch a little, which in turn made shame drip down into his belly. This entire situation made him feel nothing short of weak.

"You've gotta eat, Darry." Two-Bit's voice was, again, surprisingly forbearing. "'Else you're gonna starve." The hand on his shoulder was the same, sitting there as patient and lenient as the person it belonged to. But the concern in the man's tone, the urgency of his statement made Darry feel guilty, uncomfortable, under a spotlight. He hated people worrying about him, hated feeling like he couldn't handle things on his own. He wasn't helpless. He didn't need to be told when to eat or sleep or work or do anything.

"It ain't that big of a deal, Two," Darry muttered quietly, daring to look back over at him. He might've shrugged the hand off his shoulder any other time, but he didn't especially want to. The touch seemed genuine, and Darry realized he had never seen Two-Bit make physical contact with anyone like that. It must have meant something. He didn't know what it meant, but it must have meant something.

"Now, how're you gonna say it ain't a big deal when I just had to carry you over here from the middle of the kitchen floor?" Two-Bit arched an eyebrow at him. Ah, so Darry had been carried. He didn't have an answer to give, so he didn't give one at all; he just looked at the sandwich, then back at Two-Bit, then back at the sandwich like it was something about to sneak up and bite him instead of the other way around. He really, really didn't want to eat it, and to his absolute horror, an ache that usually signified certain displays of emotion began to pulse in his chest. Right smack in the middle of his sternum so that it felt like he was choking and unable to move all at once.

"I don't want it." Darry's voice was low, slightly strained from his resistance against his own emotion. God forbid he get emotional over something as stupid as a baloney sandwich. But his head was still spinning, and he still felt shaky and nauseous from where he'd been unconscious only minutes ago, and somehow that damn sandwich felt like it was sitting there just mocking him for his lack of appetite. If he were in his right mind, he'd muster up the energy to properly argue about it, establish his authority and his right not to eat this baloney sandwich in his own home, but it seemed that he wasn't in his right mind because the first tear slipped down his cheek without him even realizing it was about to fall. It dripped off his chin and that was the end of it, because it was the only one that dared to fall.

Two-Bit shifted beside him, maybe uncomfortably; Darry didn't know because he was staring down at his lap again. But instead of Two-Bit getting up, _giving up_ , the cool glass of juice was suddenly pressed into his hands. His eyes shot up to find a pair of grey ones staring right back.

"Go on now, drink the juice," Two-Bit urged, hand moving to rest on Darry's upper back. Holding him steady, it felt like. "C'mon, Dar, it's just a little orange juice. Ain't gonna kill ya to get something in your system, is it?"

"No." Darry's voice was hollow, and for a second, the other man frowned. Darry realized his mistake and shook his head quickly, lifting the glass up. "Won't hurt nothin'," he confirmed, waiting to see the relief pass over Two-Bit's features before he dared to take a sip.

The orange juice was sweet, the coolness of it making his head feel less foggy. Darry could recall a story he'd heard back in high school, about some Indian guy fasting almost a full month before taking a single sip of orange juice to break it. That guy had been doing it to protest his country. Darry was no political resistant, but he figured he was doing it to protest something in his own head. Or maybe his head was doing it to protest him. Regardless, the sugar made his head stop spinning a little bit even after only a taste of it, and before he could stop himself, Darry had swallowed down half the glass.

The hand on his back stayed there, even when he paused drinking to look back over at Two-Bit. Part of the other man's presence made his stomach feel all jittery, like he was letting someone see every little exposed part of him. Like he was sitting there naked or something. But that hand on his back made him feel more grounded than he'd felt in a long, long time, and he appreciated it.

"Thank you," Darry said quietly, gaze flicking up to Two-Bit's eyes for half a second and then back down at the juice. He wanted to let his stomach settle a moment before he attempted the rest of the glass. He hadn't meant to drink so much, and even though it was a nice gesture and it made him feel less ill, guilt still clawed at his stomach at how out of control he was even just drinking juice. He suspected that feeling wasn't something that would be cured with sweet drinks or sweet gestures. 

Two-Bit hummed in response, probably his equivalent of _you're welcome_. That thank you had meant more than just _thank you for bringing me juice_ , and Darry figured that was clear enough. The redhead finally dropped his hand and reached over, grabbing the sandwich. For a single, terrifying moment that made his heart speed up all over again, Darry thought he was going to be forced to eat the sandwich as well. But Two-Bit just ripped it in half, albeit inelegantly, and took the bigger half with more baloney on it for himself. The other half, he balanced carefully on Darry's knee. _I'm here when you're ready to eat me_ , the sandwich seemed to say. If sandwiches could talk, anyway.

"Got work tonight?" Two-Bit asked with his mouth full, leaning back against the couch. Now they were just two buddies sharing a sandwich, not one guy collapsing from hunger and the other guy forcing orange juice down his throat. Darry liked it better like this, believe it or not. Less pressure that way, less attention paid to if he ate and what he ate and when and why. Two-Bit was probably still making those observations, he figured, but they could at least pretend. Pretend things were normal and that no one had a problem and no one needed help for anything.

"Nope." Darry placed the rest of the orange juice on the coffee table, moving slowly so he himself didn't tip over. The drink had helped, sure, but he was still running on empty. He hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, and that had been just a few bites of a fast food hamburger on his way to work. Besides that, his body was coffee-fueled. It had been so long since he'd been on any sort of eating schedule that he just didn't think about it anymore and he didn't care to. Nevertheless, he picked up the sandwich half when he leaned back again. "Don't go back in 'til tomorrow night."

"So you can rest," Two-Bit confirmed, making the decision for him that he would be spending the rest of the evening taking it easy. Darry didn't look at him, too focused on a staredown with the sandwich, but he could feel eyes watching him, waiting for him to take a bite. Hoping he would take a bite. The sandwich had been torn unevenly and so Darry had ended up with the smaller half that had less baloney and less mayo (but somehow most of the cheese). It was a relatively unintimidating meal but it still made Darry's stomach hurt.

But he figured the only way to get Two-Bit off his back was to eat it, so he braced himself to take a bite. Not that he was especially annoyed by the other man's concern, not anymore. But if they were really going to tackle this issue right now, if they absolutely had to, Darry wanted to make sure his brothers never, ever caught wind of it. And the only way he could do that was to suck it up and take a bite of the sandwich. Just one bite to show that he was not entirely against the idea of eating even if that's what he felt deep inside. Well, feelings be damned. He closed his eyes, and sunk his teeth into the sandwich.

The bread was so soft it practically turned to mush in his mouth. The baloney was too salty and so thickly cut it felt like it was going to choke him. The cheese was limp and barely tasted like anything except the plastic it had been wrapped in. The mayo left an unpleasant coating on his tongue that bordered on sour-tasting and suddenly Darry wanted to spit all of it out and pretend he'd never had to taste any of it. But he forced himself to chew, as much effort as it took just to keep it behind closed lips.

"I'm gonna see what's on TV, that okay?" Two-Bit's voice snapped him out of the quick spiral of his thoughts, and Darry was grateful. He gave a short nod, but knew the other wasn't actually waiting for a response. He knew good and well what he was doing, probably because of the expression that had undoubtedly crossed Darry's face, but still. Two-Bit was smart, real smart. Maybe smarter than people gave him credit for. And that's why Darry ate the sandwich in a near agonizing seven bites, counting every single one. Not because he wanted it or because it tasted good or even because it admittedly made his head feel less light. No, he finished it because if Two-Bit could find even an ounce of tenderness in his body to help Darry deal with whatever the hell this is, maybe Darry owed it to him in return to at least finish half a sandwich.

"Hey, Two." Darry's voice made the redhead look away from whatever action program he'd stumbled upon while flipping through channels. Their eyes met again, and this time, there was no hostility or stubbornness in either of their gazes. The corners of Two-Bit's lips quirked up in a smile when he saw that the sandwich was nowhere to be found, broadening into a wider grin when Darry spoke to say again, "Thank you."

Of course, the sentimental moment couldn't last longer than three seconds. Two-Bit threw an arm around Darry's shoulders, likely taking advantage of the fact that the other wouldn't shove him off this time. "Superman's goin' soft," he declared loud enough for anyone within a mile's radius to hear. Darry scowled at him and elbowed him in the side, not that it did much to stop the man's boisterous statements. "You better put a little more meat on those bones, Dar, or else we can't call you 'muscles' no more," he said cheerfully, punctuating it with a hard poke in the bicep. This time, Darry really did shove him off, but not hard. It was true, after all. Anyone with a brain knew that proper nutrition was what made you strong, along with enough weight lifting to show off at the gym. Two-Bit laughed as he was pushed away and settled instead for scooting close enough that their shoulders brushed together.

"I mean it, Darry," he hummed, all traces of jest gone from his voice to leave only sincerity in its wake. "You gotta watch it. Don't want you fallin' off no roofs, now."

Darry scoffed, settling back into the couch cushions once he'd grabbed his orange juice from the table again. Their closeness was unfamiliar, but it was also comfortable. "Like I'd ever fall off a roof. I got better reflexes than that, dummy," he said right back, unable to resist defending his own reputation as a super athletic type who could carry more than one bundle of roofing up the ladder without even stumbling, thank you very much. 

"You're real funny." Two-Bit shot Darry a grin, clearly poking fun at him. "Is that any way to treat the guy who made the sandwich that saved your life?" It earned Two-Bit another elbow in the ribs, which triggered another one of his hyena laughs, which made Darry grin, and then the arm was back over his shoulders but in a real embrace instead of a roughhousing one.

And this time, Darry left it.

**Author's Note:**

> you are not alone.


End file.
